here for you
by lmacey
Summary: How will Elizabeth and Henry cope when faced with a tragedy. Set towards the end of season one. Happy reading :)
1. Chapter 1

Here for you

Chap 1

Screams. That was the first thing she heard as the first bullet flew by. She turned her head to the right only to witness Jay crumpling to the ground after a flying projectile punctured his leg.

It seemed that her instincts had failed her. All her previous training for this very situation, forgotten. Of course in the CIA she was prepared for this to happen, expecting this to happen. She stood frozen in front of the wooden podium. She saw people shouting, scared of the chaos happening around them. She quickly turned back to Jay, almost forgetting about her wounded policy advisor. She wanted to get to him, to help him. But to her surprise she was roughly pulled backwards by who she guessed, and hoped, was someone on her security detail.

After being pulled from the stage, her feet barely touched the ground while Matt and someone, who she had forgotten the name of, nearly carried her. And from there it was all a blur. Her head was covered by the arms of one of her DS agents, as they ran their protectee to the safety of the motorcade.

The doors of the SUV whipped open, and she was shoved into the backseat. The car took off before the door was even closed shut, before she even had time to comprehend what had just happened. "What was that?" She asked frantically. "Where's Jay?" She added, worried about her injured staffer and friend. But the two men in the front seat of the speeding and swerving vehicle were preoccupied.

"Shots fired. I repeat shots fired. We have Magnolia and are in route to The White House." Matt spoke into his sleeve. To who, she assumed the head of The Secret Service, or someone of the sorts. She tried to focus on what they were saying, but the nausea and ache in her middle was pulling her attention. The dull ache suddenly turned into a sharp stab. Her hand automatically went to her stomach, hoping to soothe the discomfort. But the pang of shooting pain spread through her lower abdomen, causing her to gasp and lean slightly forward in her seat.

"Madam Secretary are you alright?" Matt questioned as he turned around. "I'm… I'm O… I'm okay." She mumbled, trying to find the strength to answer him. Matt seemed unconvinced. His eyes ran over her body. "Oh god." He muttered when his eyes landed on the quickly spreading blood down her pair of white slacks.

"She's hit. Magnolia's hit!" He announced, communicating between the SUV in front and behind them. "George Washington. Now!" Matt barked at the driver. The car did a complete U turn, now speeding in the direction towards the hospital. "I'm fine." Elizabeth argued, weakly. "You've been shot. You're in shock." Matt fought. "I'm… I wasn't hit. I'm… I'm having a miscarriage." She whispered.

~one day earlier~

She had been feeling sick, tired, and moody for the past few weeks now. But she pegged that up to be from the overwhelming amount of stress she was currently under. Her and her staff had been working horrendous hours, putting all their energy in negotiating a deal with The Chinese. The endless meetings with Minister Chen and other diplomats finally came to a stop when they reached an agreement that both sides could live with. With that now off her plate, she assumed her foul moods would go to. But days after, her stomach still churned. After four days of almost seven full hours of sleep each night, her exhaustion still made itself known. Something was wrong.

That's what led her here. Standing or rather pacing in her bathroom of her Georgetown home. Three minutes. That's all she had to wait. Three short minutes. It seemed little to nothing could be accomplished in those one hundred and eighty seconds, but many thoughts ran through her mind. The first being that this was crazy. She was a forty six year old woman, and she was considering the idea that she was pregnant. It was nearly impossible. There was a one percent chance of her conceiving a child at her age, but here she was.

'This wasn't happening.' She thought. 'This couldn't be happening. Not with her job.' She told herself. She jumped when the timer dinged, telling her that her three minutes were up. Elizabeth whipped around to look across the room at the counter. She huffed as she took the few short steps to the surface, still looking straight ahead, too nervous to turn her attention to what sat on the bathroom counter. 'This is impossible.' She told herself one last time before daring to look downwards.

Her heart dropped at the test results. Pregnant. She was pregnant. She was the one percent. 'This isn't happening. This can't be happening.' She repeated. A few tears that were willing to fall earlier escaped from the corners of her eyes. She felt sick. 'Oh god what was she going to do?' She agonized.

Elizabeth glanced down at her watch through her teary eyes. This would have to wait. She didn't have time for this right now. She didn't have the time to fall apart. Didn't have time to call Henry. It was the middle of the day, and she had snuck away from The State Department an hour ago. An hour of lost time. She was needed there, she knew that. Ten minutes after leaving her office she had received calls and text messages asking her about her whereabouts. She needed to get back. There would be questions where she was off to, what she was doing.

Elizabeth stepped up to the sink and took a glance at her reflection in the mirror. Her cheeks were red, along with her eyes. She wiped under her eyes, trying to erase the evidence of her tears. She took a deep breath, working to calm herself down. Trying to get a hold on her raging emotions. She needed to leave. They have a deadline to make. No question they would be at the office through the night. But this speech was important. This would all have to wait.

~present~

"We're almost there Madam Secretary." Matt informed her. Tears were slipping down her cheeks by now. Yes they were almost to the hospital, but she knew it was already too late.


	2. Chapter 2

Here for you

Chap 2

She was overwhelmed with emotions. She didn't know what to think, how to feel. So many thoughts swam through her mind. She was disappointed. Grief pulled at her heart. But she felt guilty. So, so guilty. This was all surreal to her. It was crazy to think not even twenty four hours earlier she had no knowledge of the life inside her. And now that baby was gone. Just like that.

They had been lucky. Of course she had mixed emotions discovering she was expecting with Stevie a little over twenty years ago. The surprise was shocking and left her a bit hesitant. Henry had just returned home, and the couple was just beginning to reconnect with one another. Their marriage needed to be worked on, putting the pieces back together. The pregnancy couldn't have happened at a harder time, but they welcomed the surprise with open arms, and loving hearts.

They struggled a bit before Ally, having a difficult time getting pregnant. But after six months of trying, they were ecstatic to learn they were once again expecting. After their second child they decided they were most likely done having kids, believing they had completed their family. But things change. And late one night they, well more Elizabeth but Henry was on board, decided to go for three. They were pleased to welcome their son Jason into their family.

They certainly were lucky. They had three beautiful, smart, and amazing children. Lucky. She was lucky to have Henry. Lucky to have her kids. And very lucky to have never experienced the loss of a child in the past. These feelings were foreign to her. She was devastated.

She sucked in a breath of air as her eyes roamed around the bland looking hospital room walls. The fluorescent lights beginning to give her a headache.

She had sat through the doctor's examination, almost completely unresponsive. She listened to the woman listing off the possible reasons she had miscarried. But Elizabeth only heard bits and pieces. The words 'long work hours', 'stress of the shooting', 'pressure of the job', and 'your age' popped out to her. She had laid uncomfortably unmoving as the doctor poked and prodded at her, announcing that she had been eight weeks pregnant. Eight short weeks.

How could she have been so stupid? She was appalled with her own behavior yesterday. She was simply angry because the pregnancy so happened to fall at an inconvenient time for her and her career. But that wasn't fair. To the baby. To Henry. She took the little life for granted. She didn't get the chance to feel the baby's first kick. To hear the thumping heart beat over the machine. She would never see his or her first steps. Would never hear their first word. She wouldn't get the chance to see her child grow up. You never realize what you have until it's gone.

She heard the faint knock on the thin wooden door, warning her of someone's impending sudden entrance. "Madam Secretary." Doctor Brock began upon her entry. "Please… Elizabeth." She whispered, reminding the doctor of her name preference. She couldn't bear being called by her job title at this very personal moment. "Elizabeth." She corrected, taking another glance at her patients chart in her hand. "Everything seems to be okay." The doctor announced. 'Yeah everything but the fact she just lost her child.' She thought in her head.

"I'm going to let you go home, if you're comfortable doing so." The OB/GYN glanced up at her, waiting to see if she would comment. Bess simply nodded her head. "Alright. I caution you to take it easy the next couple of days. You can go into work if you're feeling up to it, but don't push yourself. I've gone over everything with you, but please contact me if you have any questions." The woman said.

Before Elizabeth could reply Matt walked through the open doorway. "Sorry to interrupt ma'am, but your husband's here. He's pretty frantic." The DS agent informed her.

Henry. Oh god Henry. Throughout all the commotion she had nearly forgotten about her husband. How would she tell him about this? Would he be angry? Angry that she hadn't told him she was pregnant? Would he be upset? Relieved? Would he blame her for losing their baby? Her stomach turned to knots, anxious to face him. "Send him in." She mumbled at Matt. The man swiftly left the room to fetch her husband.

Bess turned her attention back to the doctor. Doctor Brock stepped forward and held up a plastic bag containing clothes. Her clothes. Her bloody clothes. "One of the nurses said you were wearing these when brought in. Would you…" The woman was interrupted. "Dispose of them." Elizabeth cut her off, sharply. She didn't want to be reminded of what had happened. The doctor turned on her heel to leave the room, but stopped abruptly, realizing up until this point she had been rather insensitive. The OB faced Bess again. "I'm so sorry for your loss." She apologized, before she once again made her way to the door.

Just as the woman exited, Henry was nearly running through the doorway. "Elizabeth." He called, extreme concern dripping through his tone. She sighed, seeing the worry displayed on his face. He quickly crossed the room. And within seconds he had his hands on both of her cheeks, thumbs rubbing under her eyes. He needed to touch her. Reassure himself that she was in fact still here with him. "Are you alright?" He asked her. "I'm okay." She tried to convince him. He shook his head. "When I heard about the shooting I thought…" He trailed off not being able to state his biggest fear. The fear of losing her.

"Hey." Bess began. She placed her hand over one of his. "I'm right here." She told him. Henry's eyes roamed over her body, making sure she was truly okay. "They told me you weren't injured." He acknowledged, clearly confused why she was lying in a hospital bed when she was claiming she was unharmed. This was her chance to tell him everything, what happened, and why she was here. "I'm not." She answered. He tilted his head, wanting… needing a further explanation.

She nervously tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. "I may have had a bit of a panic attack in the car." She lied. She knew he would believe it. Iran was only four months ago, and she was still recovering. If she were being honest with herself, if she hadn't been focused on the pain in her abdomen her mind most likely would have flashed back to that horrific day. "Oh babe." He consoled her, kissing her hairline. "They just wanted to observe me." Bess added.

"I'm glad you're okay. I love you so much." Henry declared, staring into her eyes. She couldn't handle his piercing gaze. She looked away and cleared her throat. His eyes. It seemed like they bore straight through her. Could he tell that she was lying? Did he know? Was it possible one of her DS agents told him what happened? "Where are the kids?" She asked, changing the conversation. "At The White House." He said. She tensed. "It's just a precaution." He explained, trying to settle her mind. "Do they know what happened?" Bess probed. "I'm not sure babe." He answered truthfully. She nodded.

Henry opened his mouth to say something, but one of the men on her detail entered the room. "Madam Secretary." He began. The pair looked over at Frank. "You've been discharged ma'am. The car's being pulled around back so we can avoid the press." The man announced before quickly leaving the pair alone. "You ready?" She mumbled a mere 'yeah'. Elizabeth attempted to sit up in the small hospital bed, but the small movement caused a pang of pain in her middle. She let out a small moan which didn't go unnoticed by her husband. "Are you okay?" Henry asked. "I'm fine." She replied automatically. But she lied. She was far from fine. All she wanted to do was cry.

AN: Thank you all for the reviews. I love hearing from everyone! Let me know what you think. I've been struggling a bit writing this because it's a very deep and sensitive topic. I hope I'm doing alright. Also if you need something else to read check out my other story, news cycle. The first two chapters are a bit rough because it was my first multi chap story, but I promise you you'll enjoy it.


	3. Chapter 3

Here for you

Chap 3

She walked slowly, taking one step at a time. Henry had a hand pressed against her lower back, supporting her as they ventured through the hospital. She couldn't help but notice the pairs of curious eyes that followed her form as she passed by in the hallways. The unwanted attention made her head spin and her stomach flip. She twisted her wedding bands around her finger, nervously. She kept her head down and her eyes focused on the off white tile flooring, simply wanting to get to the car without any interruptions.

And finally when she thought her aching legs couldn't take anymore, the three SUVs came into view. She sighed and inhaled a breath of fresh air after stepping through the automatic opening doors. To her avail, just as her DS agents had promised, no press were in sight. That was truly a blessing. She and Henry were quickly escorted into the backseat of the car.

Once the heavy door was shut, her head feel back against the headrest with a thud. Henry eyed her, obviously worried. Elizabeth pulled at the collar of the uncomfortably tight blouse, hoping to loosen the fabric. The emergency outfit kept in her motorcade was not what she would prefer to be wearing at this very moment. "You okay?" Henry asked. He didn't expect her to be 'okay' after what had happened at the press conference. She glanced at him for the briefest of seconds before facing forwards again. "Yeah." She muttered, as the SUV pulled away from the curb. She focused her attention on the two men in the front seat.

"Does the FBI have any leads?" She pondered, asking the question she's been anxious to ask. But she knew the discussion should be away from prying eyes and curious ears. "Yes ma'am. The shooter's name was Peter Huffman." Matt answered. 'Was.' She thought. 'He said was. Did that mean he was dead?' She played in her mind. She couldn't imagine he would make it out of the situation any other way. "We believe the guy was working alone, going for suicide by cop." Matt went on. "He's dead?" She asked. "Yes, Madam Secretary." He told her.

"Are the kids still at The White House, Matt?" Henry questioned. "No. Agents are taking them home, and that's where we're heading now. You'll have a heavier security presence for a day or two, but your residence is secured." He informed him. Henry nodded his head. He looked to his right, stealing another glance at his wife. Her face was scrunched. Her eyebrows were furrowed together. She appeared to be conflicted.

She couldn't help but feel like she was forgetting something. Or rather someone. Her heart sped up, and that's when it dawned on her. "Is there any word on Jay?" She spit out quickly. "He was hit in the leg ma'am. He underwent surgery to remove the bullet. I'm not sure if the procedure has concluded, but the last time I checked Jay was doing great. He's expected to make a full recovery." The agent announced. Elizabeth placed a hand over her rapidly beating heart, and let out a sigh of relief. "Was there any other injuries… or even causalities?" Henry spoke. Bess stiffened at his words. 'Yes, our child.' Her mind screamed, but she couldn't let the words slip from her mouth. "No sir, nothing serious." Matt said.

She was grateful when the car came to a stop outside of their house. She couldn't bear one more minute in the suffocating, constricting SUV. After the door was opened for her, it was like she could breathe again.

Henry walked ahead while Matt and Frank trailed closely behind her. She took another step forward before flipping around. Frank nearly barreled into her, not expecting her quick motion. "You keep me updated on Jay." Elizabeth commanded. Her eyes flickered from Matt's to Frank's. "Yes ma'am." Frank responded. She was on her heel to turn back towards the house when a low voiced 'ma'am' sounded from behind. Henry was on the porch watching their exchange. Their eyes briefly met before she spun around to face Matt.

His hand slowly rose from his coat pocket, revealing two small bottles. Her gaze traveled from his hand to his face, silently questioning him. "The doctor thought it would be best…" He trailed off. "One's antibiotics and the other's your old prescription." Matt whispered. 'Prozac.' She thought. God she hated what the medication did to her. She had unwilling taken a pill after a rather harsh panic attack following the events of Iran. But gee did it work. She was out of it for hours on end. Her attention fell back on Matt, and she reluctantly accepted the pills, slipping the bottles into her jacket pocket. "Not a word about what happened to anyone… including my husband." She declared sternly. "Of course Madam Secretary." He replied.

Henry watched on as she walked up the pathway. He was staring at her funny. His glare was unusual, seeming as if all of his emotions were showing on his face. "What was that about?" Her husband pressed her as she stepped onto the porch. She shook her head, and brushed him off. "Just asking about the rest of my staff." She lied, as she opened the front door.

Three sets of eyes shot up towards the doorway. The children had been waiting anxiously in the foyer for the return of their parents. Stevie rose from her spot on the staircase, while Ally ran towards her mother. "Mom." The middle child called out, tears streaming down her cheeks. Elizabeth hushed her, taking her daughter into her arms. "I was so scared." Ally admitted. "I know. I'm okay." She comforted the crying child, running a soothing hand along her back.

Ally moved on to give her father a hug, while Stevie embraced their mom. Looking over her eldest daughter's shoulder, Elizabeth noticed Jason hanging back by the staircase. "Get over here Jace." She called. Her son moved forwards, and Bess wrapped her arms around her youngest, and kissed the top his head.

"Are you okay, mom?" Stevie asked what all the McCord kids were wondering. "I'm fine." She told them and gave a small smile. "Did they get the guy?" Ally asked. She was still latched onto her father. Allison was the family's worrier, always thinking about the worst. "Yes. He's no longer a threat." Bess answered. "Why'd he do it?" Jason asked bluntly. Elizabeth inhaled sharply and then slightly shrugged. "I don't have all the details, but it appears the man wasn't in a good place." She explained, honestly. The boy nodded.

After a moment of silence, Henry said, "Alright let's give mom some space. Why don't you make her some tea or something small to eat." The thought of eating something made her stomach turn. "Do you need anything?" He asked once the children had disappeared. "I just need to sit." She declared, before walking towards the couch. He didn't follow her, instead joining his kids in the kitchen, deciding to let her be for a bit.

Her head was hurting. She felt dizzy. She was nauseous and tired. Her stomach ached, and so did her heart. She thought about taking one of the pills Matt had given her, but quickly decided against the idea. She wanted to be present, well as present as she could manage, with her family. "Can I sit?" She nearly jumped, surprised by his 'sudden' appearance. Her legs were already tucked under her body, but she scooted to the right, making more room for her husband on the couch. He took her action as a yes, and sat down next to her. He motioned to the cup of tea on the table, silently asking if she wanted it, but she shook her head no.

"Do you want to talk about it?" He filled the silence, staring at the side of her face. She didn't answer, simply stared ahead. "I don't even know what happened." She whispered. "It all happened so fast." She went on. Henry reached out and grabbed her hand. She closed her eyes harshly at the action, but she didn't pull away. "I didn't hear it at first. Only heard the people screaming. That's when I felt the first bullet whizz by and hit Jay. And then I froze." She admitted, finally turning her head to meet his gaze. "I was in the CIA for god's sake… and I froze. It was like I forgot everything I had learned to do." She said, angry at herself for what she did… or didn't do. "Babe, you were in shock." He pointed out. She shook her head, and pulled her hand away, out of Henry's grasp.

If only she had moved faster, talked faster. She went off script. The speech could have been over. Was the shooting the reason she had lost the baby? Or was it the stress of the job? Her age? Which of the things that she had done wrong was the reason her baby was gone? This was her fault. If only she hadn't of been working so late these past few weeks. If only she had been eating better. She had a few glasses of wine the other night. Could that have done it?

"I… I'm hurting them." She mumbled, but Henry didn't know who she was referring to. "No one was severely hurt." He reminded her. "This time." She countered. "Next it could be Daisy, Matt, Blake, me… you, god forbid the kids." She cried, thinking about the numerous times he and the kids had come to hear her talk. "We have protection. DS does a great job. And they did exactly what they were supposed to today." Henry tried to reassure her. "I'm putting the kids in danger." She fought. "You're not." He argued. She turned to him, teary eyed, and said, "But I am."

AN: I'm sorry for the lack of updates. I just finished exams and I graduate next Tuesday, so there should be more over the summer! But being honest I am struggling a bit with this story. This chapter is kind of just a filler, and I'm not that happy with it. But I am amazed with all the reviews from you all!


	4. Chapter 4

Here for you

Chap 4

He didn't understand. Of course he wasn't trying to belittle what she experienced. Any civilian would be struggling with what happened to her, but she'd been through much worse… Iran was only four months ago. Henry shuddered remembering the memories he chose to bury in the back of his mind. Her arrival home. The funerals of her DS agents. The arguments between the two of them. It took time and much strength for his wife to move past the attempted coup. She finally opened up to him about the horrific events after her stint in the hospital. The shooting didn't even begin to compare to what had occurred in Iran. And then there was god knows what during her time in the CIA. He's sure he didn't know half of the things she'd seen while in the company. So why was _this_ getting to her?

It's been a week since the press conference gone wrong. And since that day he had noticed the drastic personality shift in Elizabeth. Ever since arriving home from the hospital she had acted differently than her normal self. She was nearly mute, only talking when she was directly spoken to. And even then her replies were short and lacking emotion. The kids had questioned him on their mother's mood, but he brushed their concern off, telling them she was okay just simply dealing with a lot at work. If they didn't believe him he never knew; they didn't address the topic again. The light in her eyes had gone, and he hadn't seen her smile or heard her delightful laugh. He missed his wife, missed _his_ Elizabeth.

That night, after returning from the hospital, was strange. That was the best word he could use to describe that evening. After their brief conversation on the sofa, Elizabeth had disappeared upstairs and 'locked' herself in their bathroom, spending over an hour showering and preparing for bed.

Henry was already under the covers when she finally emerged from their en suite. He sat up, back pressed against the headboard, reading. More like pretending to read, his mind was too preoccupied to concentrate on the words. His eyes rose over the rim of the book, silently watching on as she walked through the doorway over to the bed. She pulled back the blankets and laid down without saying a word. He flipped off the lamp, darkness swallowing up the room.

She was so close yet so far away. Tension filled their bedroom. While he could sense her need for space, his need to touch her won in his mind. He reached out and wrapped an arm around her waist. 'Elizabeth…' He started, but she quickly interrupted. 'Please Henry… I'm exhausted.' She whispered as she shrugged off his arm, moving closer to the edge of the bed, further away from him.

He was a bit hurt by her reaction, but wasn't surprised. He rolled back to his side of the bed with a sigh. He knew neither of them would sleep much tonight.

After finally falling asleep after hours of lying awake staring up at the ceiling, Henry awoke to an alarming sound. He sat up in bed quickly, and rubbed his eyes. He heard the awful noise again, and made his way to the bathroom. He found a pale looking Elizabeth leaning over the toilet, emptying her stomach contents.

Henry kneeled down next to her, and placed a comforting hand on her back, while he pulled back her hair with the other hand. After throwing up again, she dabbed the small washcloth she had been holding, against her mouth. 'Henry I need you to leave.' She announced. She turned her head to look at him when he didn't reply. 'Please. You're suffocating me.' She frantically explained before getting sick once more. Obeying her request, he left the room.

He retreated to their bedroom, finding himself once again sitting on their bed 'reading' his book. Thirty minutes later the click clack of heels on the hardwood caught his attention. Henry looked up to find his wife walking out of the bathroom, dressed in her work wear. 'You're not going into the office.' He told her, as she grabbed her watch off the dresser. 'I'm fine.' She mumbled, giving him the automatic response, but he wasn't having it.

'You're not fine!' Her head whipped towards him, hearing his tone. 'You've spent the last twenty minutes throwing up.' He continued. She stayed quiet, not being able to argue her way out of that one. 'Have you taken your pills?' He asked. He was concerned for his wife's health. He knew with the shooting yesterday her state simply couldn't be written off as a mere stomach bug. It was all related. And the only explanation he could come up with was her anxiety was causing her nausea. The gut and the mind were connected after all, and this symptom wasn't new to her either. Little did he know that her stomach cramps were so intense she had gotten sick.

She didn't go to work that day, and she didn't sleep in their bed that night either. She grabbed her pillow, mumbling something about needing space, and swiftly left the bedroom.

She had snapped back to somewhat of her normal self the next day. She went back to work, and even arrived home for dinner at a decent time. She was present with the kids, asking them about school and sports. She talked about meeting with The Prime Minister of Bangladesh, and how she visited jay in the hospital. She said he was doing really well. Although she smiled through dinner, Henry could see through her façade.

The next few days were hard. Henry was only trying to comfort her, but she was distancing herself, closing herself off. She was always so good at hiding her emotions. Henry couldn't get a read on her. He was more than frustrated with the situation. He was simply trying to help Elizabeth. But with what? He didn't know. He didn't understand what she was struggling with, and she refused to talk to him. And although he wished, he couldn't read minds. So he would just have to wait for her to open up to him about what was bothering her. He convinced himself she was just shook up from the near death situation. That was until he ventured downstairs late one night to find her.

Henry had been lying in bed working on his novel when he realized it was just past midnight. Elizabeth had told him she'd be up an hour ago. Knowing his wife needed sleep, he set off to force her to bed.

He smiled seeing her in their office. He stood slightly out of view, running his eyes over her. Her head was down, glasses sliding down her nose; she was hard at work. Just as Henry was about to step through the open office door he heard the familiar voice.

'Are you alright Bess?' Conrad was on speaker phone. Henry took a step backwards, making sure he was out of sight, but still within ear shot. 'Why wouldn't I be?' He heard his wife's hushed tone. 'Well there's been some talk of something serious happening on the way to the hospital.' The President explained.

'Who'd you hear that from?' Elizabeth questioned. Henry noticed the slight bit of panic in her voice. 'Just some secret service mumblings.' The man informed her. 'Well you know how they are…' She laughed. 'They tend to gossip; they're worse than teenagers.' She joked. 'Sometimes.' Conrad muttered.

'I'm fine Conrad.' She tried to convince him. 'You would tell me if you weren't?' He questioned. 'Have I ever?' She countered. 'So that's a no." He said. 'I'll be okay.' Elizabeth stated. 'Alright then…' He trailed off. 'Take care of yourself Bess.' Conrad told her. Henry decided to make his presence known, and stepped into the room. Elizabeth looked up at his as she said, 'good night Mr. President' before hanging up.

Henry crossed his arms over his chest and looked down at Elizabeth. 'What was that about?' He asked. She stood from her chair, and began straightening up the loose files. 'Oh nothing. He just wanted to know some info on the trade deal with China I'm working on.' She waved him off. 'Ready for bed?' She asked, as she walked past him and out of the room. She had just lied to him, but why? Why was Conrad worried about her? The whole conversation left him wondering if something else had happened.

Those were the events of the past week. Not much had changed either. Elizabeth still wouldn't let him in, and he was worried this was beginning to turn into another Iran situation.

She had a late day at work, but he waited up for her. It was a little past ten; she had just eaten the meal Henry had set aside for her earlier, and they were now both relaxing, trying to unwind before bed. Henry stretched out on the couch while Elizabeth curled up in a chair. They were both reading.

"Why do we have that piano?" Henry asked out of the blue, staring at the huge grand piano in the corner of the room. Elizabeth looked up over her book, glaring at him. Her forehead wrinkled, surprised by the very random question. "Because I used to play. And Stevie had those lessons years back." She answered quickly, and went back to her book.

"And we decided to bring it from the farm because?" He questioned. He was right. They never used it, but he wasn't concerned about the piano. He just wanted to talk to her… about anything. Elizabeth dropped her book to her lap, annoyed. "I don't know." She announced. She picked up her book once again, but huffed and clapped in shut after a minute. Her mind wasn't able to comprehend the words on the pages.

"I'm going to get ready for bed." She declared before standing and making her way to the steps. Henry began to follow her, but she whipped around on the staircase. "Don't." She commanded sternly, holding up a hand to him. "Please, just… just let me be." She pleaded, unshed tears welling in her eyes. He returned to his spot on the couch.

About an hour later there was a knock on the door. Henry sighed, already knowing who the person at the door was here to see, and rose form the sofa. He opened the door, and wasn't surprised to see The President's chief of staff on his doorstep. "Russel come…" Henry couldn't even get his sentence out before the man walked through the front door. "I need to see Elizabeth." Russel said, staring down at his cell phone, as usual. "Why?" Henry asked. The man looked up from the phone. "Because she wasn't answering my phone calls. We need to discuss China." He quipped. "She went upstairs. I'll get her." Henry replied.

He left the man standing in the foyer, but all of his attention was focused on whatever was on his phone. Henry ascended the stairs and walked down the hallway into their room. He looked left to right, but Elizabeth wasn't in sight. He spotted the closed bathroom door, and sighed.

"Elizabeth?" He called, knocking on the wood. "Russel's here to see you." He declared. He waited for a reply, but one never came. He became worried. He tried the handle to the door, but it was locked. "Elizabeth?" He said again, but louder. Nothing. The worst ran through his mind. What if she had passed out? What if she slipped in the shower? But the water wasn't running. That wasn't it.

Henry quickly went to the dresser and fumbled around the top drawer, and returned to the locked door with a key in hand. He jiggled the key in the lock then pushed the door open. "Liz?" He let the nickname slip, as he frantically entered the bathroom. She wasn't in here. If she wasn't in here, then where was she?

Russel looked up from his phone, and was surprised to only see Henry walking down the steps. "Where is she?" The chief of staff questioned. "She's not up there." Henry said firmly. "What do you mean she's not upstairs, her motorcade's outside." Russel nearly shouted, but Henry ran right past him and outside. "Dr. McCord?" One of the agents said, startled. "Where the hell's my wife?"

"What if she was abducted?" Henry asked, anxiously. "Just calm down henry." Russel tried to settle the man. "It's kind of hard to do so when your wife's missing!" Henry shouted before putting both of his hands on the top of his head. Henry swallowed hard, not knowing what to do, how to help. He stood in the kitchen impatiently waiting for the handful of DS agents to finish their search.

"Where are the kids?" Russel asked. "Upstairs in their rooms, asleep." Henry answered. "And you checked on them?" Russel was making sure they didn't have any more missing persons on their hands. The Secretary of State was bad enough. "Yes." Henry snipped. Before Russel could say anymore, Matt strode down the stairs. Henry looked up hearing footsteps, hoping for good news, but Matt shook his head. "The only thing upstairs was her phone." The man held up the device, before lifting his wrist to his mouth, and saying, "code blue on Hummingbird. I repeat code blue."

Not even a second after Matt made the announcement, another agent came barging though the back door. 'The jeep's gone, and this was on the door." The man declared. Henry snatched the piece of paper from his hand. The note read, 'Henry, I'm fine. Well not fine, but I'm safe. Tell Matt I don't want a bowl of blackberries. I apologize for leaving abruptly, but I need to get away and clear my head. I need to think about a few things. –Elizabeth.'

Henry sighed and handed the note over to Russel. He was relieved for a second. She left on her own will. But she left. Whatever she was going through was enough to make her leave. "How do we know she didn't write this with a gun to her head?" Russel asked. "It's code sir. Our code for distress is she asks for a bowl of blackberries. She would never say this if she was in trouble." An agent explained.

"That's a… a pretty weird code." The chief of staff replied. "It's something she would never ask for. She hates blackberries." Henry whispered.

"Okay, now let's address this. How the hell did she get past security?" Russel shouted, looking around at the men, waiting for an answer. "She was in the CIA Russel! You don't think she could give her detail the slip?" henry yelled, frustrated. Where the hell was his wife?

AN: Guys I PROMISE Elizabeth IS going to tell Henry… eventually. I know I'm evil, but I like setting up all the tension. Happy reading! Tell me what you think!


	5. Chapter 5

Here for you

Chap 5

The windshield wipers on the jeep were doing double time, working to clear the pouring rain from the glass as she flew down Interstate 66. The streets had been surprisingly busy for this time of night, but once outside the city limits she was the lone car on the road. It was dark. Of course there was an occasional street lamp hanging high above, and her car's headlights illuminated the blacktop a few feet ahead, but the world around her was black except when lightening lit up the sky. The silence in the car was deafening. The only noise was the continuous 'whoosh whoosh' of the wipers against the windshield. Elizabeth quickly smacked her hand against the power button of the radio, deciding that leaving herself alone with her own thoughts was dangerous. The music rang through the speakers, but merely seemed to fade away when her mind flashed back to the previous week.

The night of the shooting she was… numb. She remembered the car ride home from the hospital. And she could recall greeting her worried kids at the door. But everything after she sat down on the sofa was a blur.

She didn't know if she had eaten the dinner Stevie had prepared; she couldn't imagine being able to stomach any food. She had no idea if she had talked with her children or even Henry. She went about her tasks mindlessly, relying on muscle memory to get her through the evening before retreating upstairs.

Their bathroom. That was the next thing she could remember. She sat arms wrapped around her knees under the once warm, but now cold stream of flowing water. Henry's loud knock and call of her name roused her from her thoughts. She hadn't even realized she had sat down at the bottom of the shower. She wondered how long she'd been here; it had to be long enough to worry Henry. 'I'll just be a few more minutes.' She had called back.

Once dressed she went straight to her side of the bed, not wanting to talk. She could feel his eyes on her as she breezed across the room. But she ignored his gaze, and pulled back the covers. When he reached out for her she nearly lost it. She couldn't bear his touch. She didn't feel deserving of his comfort. She slept on the very edge of the bed that night.

She slept for a mere four hours before waking from a restless sleep. If you could even call it that. Her body was exhausted from the trauma she'd experienced, but her mind was on overdrive. She soon found herself pacing the floor downstairs. She felt the need to do something. To fix this whole situation. Her job as Secretary of State entailed solving problems to ensure the safety of American citizens. And as a CIA analyst she found herself working to avert crises day after day. She's always fixed things; that's what she was good at. But now… She couldn't fix this. It was over. There was nothing she could do. 'I've never met a situation where I don't have a choice in the matter.' She had muttered out loud to herself. She'd have to rethink that because she didn't have a choice. If she did, losing her fourth child wouldn't have been the outcome. Elizabeth froze realizing she didn't have any control. Her heart sped up while her lungs seemed unable to take in any air. This was out of her hands. 'In… Out.' She thought, but it didn't help. She inhaled sharply, nearly choking before bolting up the stairs knowing what would come next. The cramping in her abdomen only worsened her panic.

And that's how Henry found her. Leaning over the toilet, heaving. He tried to comfort her, but she pushed him away. She felt unworthy of his help.

They argued when she emerged from their bathroom dressed ready for work. He had yelled at her, saying she should stay home… that she was in fact not fine. Although knowing he was right, she argued back. In the end he 'won'; she didn't go to work.

She avoided him all day, not being able to face him. She was scared she would completely break down if he threw a certain look her way. When it came time for bed she couldn't handle lying in their bed, knowing she had failed as a mother. Failed to protect her baby. She let down her child, along with her husband. She slept in the guest bedroom.

She slipped from the unfamiliar bed early the next morning and set off for The State Department just as the sun peaked over the trees. She reluctantly made it home for dinner, but only because she couldn't stay at her office any longer. Her whole body was aching while also experiencing a raging headache. She put up a front for her family, smiling through dinner.

Elizabeth could see the confliction in Henry's eyes the following days. She was distancing herself from her husband, not only physically but also emotionally.

The last few nights she'd fallen into a habit of working in their home office until about one or two am. Tonight was no different. She had been reading over a budget proposition when The President called. They briefly discussed a situation in Uganda along with the trade deal with China before the conversation took a turn.

'Are you alright Bess?' He blurted out. 'Why wouldn't I be?' She quickly fired back. 'Well there's been some talk of something serious happening on the way to the hospital.' Conrad explained. Elizabeth's heart nearly skipped a beat. 'Who'd you hear that from?' She asked nervously. 'Just some Secret Service mumblings.' The President had said. 'Well you know how they are…' She trailed off and forced a laugh. 'They tend to gossip; They're worse than teenagers.' She joked. Elizabeth paused then said, 'I'm fine Conrad.' Her voice didn't waver. 'You would tell me if you weren't?' He had asked. 'Have I ever?' She quipped. 'So that's a no.' He replied. 'Alright then…' The President went on. 'Take care of yourself Bess.' Conrad said.

Elizabeth's eyes flipped upwards meeting Henry's. He was standing in the doorway. Her stomach dropped. How much had he heard? 'Good night Mr. President.' She said before ending the call. Elizabeth's stare fell back to her desk. 'What was that about?' He asked. Elizabeth stood, knowing she needed this conversation to end quickly. 'Oh nothing. He just wanted to know some info on the trade deal with China I'm working on.' She didn't lie. That had been one of things they had discussed. She just left out the other parts. 'Ready for bed?' She asked as she walked past him and out of the room.

Elizabeth gripped the steering wheel more firmly. The past week she'd felt trapped. In their house. At The State Department. It felt like the walls were closing in around her. She finally reached her breaking point a few hours ago.

She returned home after a day at work. Her head was aching and her stomach was growling. After picking through her dinner she curled up in a chair with a book. She hoped it would serve as a distraction from the thoughts running through her mind. Henry initiated this stupid conversation about their piano. She didn't know what that was all about, but she angrily closed her book and made a move to the staircase. When her husband tried to follow she snapped. 'Please just… just let me be.' She pleaded desperately. He let her go.

She slammed their bedroom door closed before letting a few unshed tears fall down her cheeks. He was hovering. He obviously knew something was wrong, but she needed her space. She needed to deal with this herself, but she couldn't do that here. She had to get away.

After taking necessary precautions, including ridding herself of all traceable devices, she quietly walked down the back staircase. Henry was nowhere in sight. She grabbed the car keys off the hook, left a note showing she was safe, and slipped out the door.

She half chuckled realizing her spy craft was still efficient. Thunder crackled above followed by another bout of lightening. God it was really coming down. She pressed on the gas harder. She had at least another hour and a half ahead of her.

AN: I deeply apologize for the delay. Between work, tennis, golf, and frankly becoming an adult (lol), I haven't had much time to write. And before I went on with this story I wanted to finish up news cycle, which I did. I'm already working on the next chapter. Sorry this one is pretty boring, but I wanted to include Elizabeth's point of view on the past week. I hope you're still looking forward to reading what comes next in this story.


	6. Chapter 6

Here for you

Chap 6

"_Okay, now let's address this. How the hell did she get past security?" Russell shouted, looking around at the men, waiting for an answer. "She was in the CIA Russell! You don't think she could give her detail the slip?" Henry yelled, frustrated. Where the hell was his wife?_

Lightening flashed followed by a loud clap of thunder. The noise seemed to shake the entire house. Henry stood frozen, hands flat against the kitchen island staring down at the floor. 'Henry I'm fine. Well not fine.' He's running the words of the note she had left through his mind, trying to read in between the lines when Russell's voice pulls him from his thoughts.

The chief of staff has his phone in his hand. He's frantically typing something while looking up from time to time to stare down the other occupants of the kitchen. "I just can't wrap my head around this. You are all highly trained professionals who've underwent extensive training and you just let The Secretary of State waltz on by!" He shouted. He was fuming; Eyes staring daggers at a handful of members from Elizabeth's detail.

"Russell yelling isn't going to fix this. She left. How she did so isn't vital at the moment. We need to focus on the problem at hand." Henry said firmly. Whatever Russell was about to say died on his lips. He was speechless.

The room fell into a silence. Henry rubbed his temples hoping to alleviate some of the tension in his head. His mind is going a mile a minute, replaying the past week looking for a sign. A sign that she was in so much distress that she would be driven to leave. But god damn it everything she did in the last week was one big indication that something was wrong. He should have known better. He should have intervened. He could have helped her… but could he? And then in dawned on him… He'd seen this before.

Henry's gaze fell on the doorway when The Director of the FBI, Keith Doherty began to talk. "There's a tracker on the jeep. We'll have The Secretary's location in about ten minutes. Once we do I'll send DS after her." He announced. "No." Henry spoke up. Russell and Doherty exchanged confused expressions. "I won't let you do that." Henry clarified. "And why the hell not?" Keith grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest. Henry thought on his words before saying, "We need to let her go."

"We can't do that." Russell disagreed. "She is my wife! And I am telling you what is best for her!" Henry asserted. "This is what's best for her! Right now she is out there unprotected with no security. She is vulnerable." The chief of staff pointed out. "I can assure you she can very much handle herself."

Russell simply shook his head in disbelief. "Conrad will say the same thing." He tried to convince. "You wanna bet?" Henry mumbled.

"Gentleman." Conrad Dalton addressed the room. "Mr. President." Russell greeted formally while the others in the room remained quiet including Henry. "Now if I heard correctly, my name was just mentioned." Conrad declared.

Russell and Henry locked gazes before both turned and began rambling incoherent words at The President. The man quickly held up his hands silencing the pair, but before he could speak a small sleepy voice filled the air.

"Dad?" The men turned to the origin of the voice. Stevie stood on the staircase, eyes shining with worry. "Sweetheart… I'm sorry we woke you." henry addressed, moving towards his daughter. "Is mom in trouble?" She nearly whispered. "No." Henry answered at the same time Russell muttered 'She will be.' "Honey, go back upstairs. I'll be up soon." Henry commanded calmly. She nodded her head. He watched his daughter disappear up the stairs before returning to stand by the kitchen counter.

"I was filled in on my way over here… What seems to be the problem now?" Conrad questioned. "Dr. McCord doesn't want agents to go after the Secretary." Russell mocked. "Reason being?" The President directed at Henry. "Thomas Duncan."

Conrad's face fell with the simple mention of the name. Thomas Duncan was a colleague and also a close friend of Elizabeth and himself back in the CIA. Agent Duncan worked closely with his wife for nearly ten years before his life tragically came to an end. The Company had been in hysterics ever since the towers fell. They were running around struggling to gather new intel on Bin Laden while all also trying to ignore the guilt hanging over their heads knowing they had failed to connect the dots.

Only a mere month after the September 11th attacks had Agent Duncan been deployed to Iraq. Thomas had been undercover for two months building relationships and filtering intel back to The Company. Elizabeth and Isabelle had been playing the part of Duncan's handler, being as everyone at CIA was spread pretty thin at the moment. The op had been going pretty smoothly; they were getting the information they desperately needed. They had a long way to go, but they were making progress especially with the help from an asset on the ground in Baghdad.

Their contact was very useful, someone Elizabeth came to trust. At the time she had no idea she couldn't have been more wrong. The man who she believed was on their side had arranged a meeting between Thomas and a top target of The Company. This is what they'd been working towards. They were so close to getting this guy; she and Isabelle were ecstatic.

Elizabeth had spoken to Thomas an hour before he was meant to be with a high ranked member of al-Qaeda. She had assured him that the meeting would go off without a hitch. She reminded him that she and Isabelle would be watching the interaction through his body camera. They had laughed together, relieved his time in Iraq was coming to a close. Elizabeth had promised him he'd be coming home soon… She was unable to keep that promise.

She watched as their contact led Thomas through a doorway into a run-down building, but something was off. The room was empty. Before she could even get her words of warning out of her mouth, their asset turned and shot Agent Duncan in the chest four times. She watched her friend die… He never got to come home.

Elizabeth acted as if she was unfazed by the tragic loss, but Henry could see through her front to the inner turmoil she was experiencing. He could easily guess that she blamed herself for Thomas's death.

The week after 9/11 he thought she couldn't be home any less, but she proved him incorrect. It was go go go for her every minute every day whether it be at home or at work. She was nonstop. She came home late, tired and drained, and then she cared for their six month old baby. She didn't sleep. He was worried about her, and apparently so were others.

One afternoon Henry received a call from Conrad asking if Elizabeth was indeed alright, saying he was concerned. Her boss, director of the CIA, the person who should be able to easily read people was turning to him for answers? Henry's anxiety grew.

He attempted to talk to her, hoping for her to open up, but she didn't budge. And then one night she came home after all the kids were asleep, and told Henry she needed time to herself, saying she'd be back in three days. She placed a kiss on his cheek before walking out the door. She drove to Martha's Vineyard and stayed in the vacation home she had inherited from her parents. He had no idea what epiphany she had while there, but she returned three days later ready to talk and ready for his support.

"I have no idea what the hell happened or what she's going through, but if you force her back before she's ready you'll end up with a non-functioning Secretary of State. She'll be a shell of herself." Henry admitted, staring directly at The President. Henry couldn't tell what was running through the man's mind. Conrad stood frozen until he muttered, "okay."

"Mr. President." The Director of the FBI opposed, unbelieving what he just agreed to. President held a hand up to Keith while also choosing to ignore the stare he was receiving from Russell. "We have her location. We'll monitor her, but leave her be." He declared. Henry sighed in relief. "Although I agree she deserves the time away, this situation is still a dangerous one. I'll give her a day… maybe two before I put agents on her." Conrad said firmly.

The rain was beginning to slow down as she turned the car down the long gravel road. Elizabeth flicked on her brights, illuminating the pathway. Once the house came into view she put the car in park and sighed. Now that she was here she had no idea what to do.

She made a mad dash to the door, working to avoid the rain. She fiddled with the keys in her hand until finally the door was able to open.

The house was dark, being as it now sat empty, unused. It felt different being here alone. Elizabeth took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of their old home.

She took a few steps further into the room, not bothering to turn on any lights. Relief flooded her body. For what… she didn't know. She took another shaky breath before letting the tears fall down her face.

She was alone. Free from the eyes of others. She was tired. Tired of upholding this picture perfect façade. She needed to grieve. She needed to feel the full emotions of her loss. She hadn't had that chance. Hadn't had the chance to fall apart.

Her tears suddenly turned to sobs. Sobs that wracked through her entire small frame. She unknowingly found herself on the ground from the force of her shudders. She fell… she was finally able to fall apart.

AN: Hey guys here's the next chapter! I hope you enjoy it because this one was fun to write, and I really like this one for some reason. I promise you'll see more of Elizabeth in the next chap! So I wanted to tell you how I originally came up with the idea for this story because I realized I never did. Read on if you're curious… so I'm generally an anxious person and one of the things that has always cleared my head is being in a car. (I couldn't tell you why). Whether I'm the driver or the passenger I always seem to come up with my best ideas while out on the road and listening to music. Anyways late one night I had to pick up my younger sister from a friend's house. It was raining and there were nearly no other cars out on the streets. And suddenly I just imagined Elizabeth soaring down the highway in the pouring rain. I was like okay but how can I make this believable because obviously Elizabeth can't drive because of her job position. I played with the idea of making the story pre-series but I opted not to. So I conjured up this situation, and that's how 'here for you' came about. I hope you all stick with me because I am really excited for the rest of this story!


	7. Chapter 7

Here for you

Chap 7

Her head ached. Temples throbbing from the overdue crying she had given into the night before. Her eyes fluttered open slowly, and instinctively darted to the bedside clock. She almost gasped upon seeing the time. It was nearly ten thirty. She couldn't remember the last time she'd slept this late.

Elizabeth sat up and swung her legs over the side of the bed. She stretched for a moment before standing and taking the mere four steps to the window. She pulled back the curtain in one fluid motion. Grey gloomy skies met her eyes. She sighed. The weather seemed appropriate for how she was feeling.

~MS~

She let her eyes roam over the familiar kitchen as she leaned back against the counter, patiently waiting for the coffee to finish brewing.

It was odd being here without her husband and kids. The house felt empty, lifeless. It was… quiet. So so quiet. The only sounds were the sputtering of the coffee machine and the tik tik of the clock. She couldn't decide if the feeling of being alone was refreshing or intimidating.

Ever since she took the post as Secretary of State there wasn't a moment where she was truly by herself. Both mentally and physically. The job seemed to become who she was. Even after leaving the office the thought of what she needed to do tomorrow constantly remained at the back of her mind. Whether it be meeting with an ambassador, talking to The President, or giving a speech…

"Damn it." She muttered, cursing and shaking her head at herself. That damn speech… She put that speech over her unborn child. She picked to simply go back to the office. If only she had just stopped and felt. She so deeply wished she had called Henry after finding out they were expecting…. But she hadn't.

The beeping of the coffee maker drew her from her thoughts. Elizabeth pushed off the counter and quickly poured the brown liquid into a mug before making her way through the house.

~MS~

The rush of cold air as she stepped onto the front porch surprised her. But the weather in Virginia, especially in April, was never consistent. She pulled her cardigan tightly around herself before sitting down in one of the chairs.

Elizabeth closed her eyes and took a deep breath. The air was fresh, holding the distinct scent of rain, being as it was lightly drizzling. Oh how she missed mornings like these. Mornings where she and Henry would sit peacefully together sharing a cup of coffee before the kids had woken. This was_ their_ spot; their favorite place in the entire house. Oh how badly she wished he was here holding her in his arms.

A wave of guilt washed over her. For everything. For not letting him in. For pushing him away. For leaving… But she couldn't face him… not yet; she wasn't ready. She couldn't tell him she was angry when she found out she was pregnant. Her first thought when seeing the positive pregnancy test was 'this couldn't happen with her job.' Would he be angry? She couldn't tell him that this may have been her fault, at least in her mind it was. The stress of the job. Her age. Unhealthy sleeping and eating habits. Would he blame her? And she sure as hell couldn't tell him that for a brief moment she was relieved. Would he understand?

She was ashamed of her own emotions. Elizabeth sipped from her cup; the warm liquid warmed her. Her thoughts flashed to her family back at home. She knew her absence would worry them, and she definitely needed to apologize to DS. They all had to know something was wrong.

~MS~

"Dad where's mom?" Allison asked as she trotted down the staircase. "Did she already leave for work?" She quickly followed up.

Stevie eyed her father from the table, waiting to see if he would tell her siblings the truth. She had been filled in on their mother's 'disappearance' the night before.

"She's at the farm." He answered nonchalantly, continuing with his task of making breakfast.

"What? She was going to help me with my report in US History on the CIA." Jason complained, not even looking up from his phone.

"Well I can help you." Henry told him, while spreading butter on a piece of toast. "I'll just call her." Jason replied.

"No. We're going to leave her alone." Henry responded. Jason looked up from the table at his dad's comment, confused. The look on Allison's face told him she was thinking the same thing.

"Did you guys get in a fight or something?" Ally asked frantically, worried about her parents.

"No Noodle, everything's fine." Henry told her as he crossed the kitchen and placed a plate of toast on the table. 'Then why isn't she here?" Jason argued.

Henry paused thinking carefully about what he wanted to say. "Look… Your mom's been having a rough time recently and she thought it would be a good idea to get away…" He explained, but he still saw the concern on their faces. "I promise you she'll be okay." Henry told them, but he seemed to be trying to convince himself.

~MS~

After her stomach began grumbling and deciding there would be no food in the usually empty house, Elizabeth climbed back into the jeep. The drive was a short one. The small old looking café was exactly how she remembered. She was a frequent customer ever since her parents took her and Will here for brunch years and years ago.

She exhaled, simply staring ahead at the building. She sat in the jeep still deciding if she should go in; she knew what her visit would entail. Elizabeth half chuckled at herself. She knew what she was getting into when she drove here. This would be good for her.

She made a mad dash to the entrance trying to avoid as much of the rain as possible. She pushed the door open, eliciting a ring of a bell. Her eyes surveyed the small diner from left to right. It was nearly empty besides a handful of older occupants. She stood still, sure that she looked out of place.

"Lizzie!" She heard her name called from across the room. She turned, smiling seeing the plump older man. Her feet carried her towards him. He instantly wrapped her in a warm welcoming embrace. The man pushed her back looking her up and down. "Well look at you!" He exclaimed. She laughed. "And without your entourage I see." He added, referring to her security detail. The man stepped back behind the bar, already moving to pour her a cup of coffee.

"What can I say? Sometimes a girl needs a break from all the men with guns." She joked as she shrugged off her trench coat. She placed the jacket on a bar stool before she herself took a seat on the next stool over.

"Where's that husband of yours?" He pondered, noticing the absence of Henry. "It's just me, Stan." Elizabeth answered. Stan placed a small shot of creamer next to her mug.

"You two having marriage troubles?" He pushed. He was never one to beat around the bush. She shook her head, and said, "Nothing like that." But her tone suggested she was unsure.

"Sure about that?" Stan questioned, unbelieving of her response. She really thought about her answer. Could she classify the lack of communication between them marital issues?

"I guess it depends on your definition of 'marriage troubles'." Elizabeth declared as she mixed a spoonful of sugar into her cup of coffee.

Stan decided to back off the topic for the time being when she didn't go on to explain further. "You still like pancakes?" He asked.

She smiled. "Love em. Especially yours." She answered honestly.

"Good. I'll put the order in." Stan told her before walking towards the kitchen.

She watched in awe as Stan walked around the diner checking on and chatting with the other customers. He hadn't changed a bit. He seemed to be very happy, and she so dearly hoped that was true. When his wife Cindy passed away a few years back he struggled. She was the light of his life… the light of the restaurant. She was glad he was getting back to his free spirited self.

"How's James?" Elizabeth asked politely as Stan set a plate in front of her. James was an old childhood friend of hers who was also Stan's son. They first met here at the diner when she was getting breakfast with her father, but their friendship really took off when her parents hired James to help out with the horses one summer. They remained close up until college, and then life happened.

"He's living the life in Silicon Valley. He loves it!" Stan answered, proud of his son. "It suits him." Elizabeth commented, pouring syrup on her plate. "Yeah well, he was always good at all that tech stuff. Me? I don't even know how to work Facebook." He joked. Elizabeth laughed.

"And his wife?" She questioned before cutting a piece out of her pancakes. "Great. Their two little girls are their everything… Well they're not so little anymore." He said. Elizabeth nodded, thinking how grown up her own kids were becoming.

"How long since you've seen him?" The man asked before refilling her cup of coffee. "Six. Seven years maybe." She said before taking a bite of her breakfast. She nearly moaned at the taste. "Mhhhm this is as delicious as I remember." She complimented, but Stan merely crossed his arms over his chest and stared at her. She ignored his glare, and continued eating.

"So are you going to tell me why you're really here?" He prompted. She looked up from her plate into his eyes. "I was hungry." She answered, knowing full well that wasn't the answer he was looking for.

He shook his head at her. "Not here. I mean here in Charlottesville." He clarified.

She sucked in a breath; she knew he would push her, and maybe that's exactly what she needed. She set her fork down next to her plate, preparing herself for the seriousness of the conversation. "I needed to get away. Something… Something awful happened." Elizabeth informed him.

"Something you can talk about?" Stan asked, thinking this may have something to do with her job.

"Well I could if I wanted to." She replied, telling him without actually telling him this had nothing to do with national security.

"Ah. So this has something to do with Henry." He realized. She wasn't surprised by his quick understanding of the situation. He was always able to read people so easily. "You could say that." She confirmed, playing with the napkin in her hands.

"You know what your mama and daddy would tell you right now?" Stan began. She looked up from her lap at the mention of her parents. Stan and Cindy had always been fond of her mom and dad. Cindy once told her that they didn't let class stand in the way of their friendship. Her parents were always very kind and always treated them with the respect they deserved, not caring about their difference in money. "They'd tell you that you're stronger than this… Whatever it may be." He said.

"What if I'm not?" She whispered. Stan looked down at her. She looked so much like a child in that very moment. Helpless and scared. He reached across the counter and grabbed her hand with his.

"You can and you will… You know it helps having the support of someone who loves you, and for god sake Henry is over the moon for you Lizzie!" He said firmly. "Let him in." Stan added.

Tears were welling up in her eyes, threatening to spill over. She stood, grabbing her coat. "Thank you… for breakfast I mean." She said before turning.

"Elizabeth." Stan called before she could push open the door. She turned back; her eyes meeting his. "Take care of yourself." He commanded. She nodded before opening the door and running out into the pouring rain.

She ran across the gravel parking lot, making it to the jeep in a matter of seconds. But something stopped her from opening the door.

She froze, not caring about the water soaking through her clothes, and looked up towards the sky. Her hair began to cling to her face. Tears mixed with the droplets of water on her cheeks. 'Why did this happen to her… to them?' She thought.

AN: Thank you for your patience. I apologize for taking so long to update. Hopefully this chapter makes up for the wait. I just got my wisdom teeth out and let me tell you…. not fun at all. Like always tell me what you think! Happy reading :)


	8. Chapter8

here for you

chap 8

"Negotiations between Washington and Beijing appeared to be progressing until this morning when China left the trade talks a day early with no deal in sight." The young woman on the television spoke.

Henry planted himself down on the sofa in front of the screen, tuning into the news. Since his first lecture didn't begin for another two hours, he could leisurely take his time enjoying his bowl of Cheerios and cup of coffee. He had dropped Jason off at school twenty minutes ago, while Stevie drove Allison. That task was marked off his to do list. And the house was already clean. He took on that job last night when he couldn't sleep. Having nothing else to do, he could relax this morning... or at least try to.

His every thought was currently on his wife; he was so worried. He hadn't heard from her in a day. No texts. No calls. He missed her voice. Missed her. And he didn't know what to do about it.

He was struggling deciding what to do next. He could easily call her. He caught himself dialing their old home phone number a handful of times the previous day, but he never punched in the last digit. He had a car; he could be at the farm in three hours. But he stopped himself from going to her.

It was killing him not to reach out. He wanted to help her. Comfort her. But Elizabeth was so stubborn. She did things her way, and at her own pace. It was her move. He just hoped she would make it soon. Hoped she would come home to him.

As Henry munched away on his Cheerios his attention fell back on the daily news broadcast. "With tensions between the two nations escalating along with the major lack of communication, it seems it's unlikely that the U.S. and China will reach a trade agreement anytime soon... Now we all have questions on the matter, but one in particular. We've taken notice of the unusual absence of The Secretary of State. She hasn't been present at any of the trade deal talks, and also hasn't been spotted arriving or leaving The State Department. We're all wondering where is Secretary McCord." The newscaster said firmly, looking directly into the camera.

Henry dropped his spoon letting it clank aganist his now empty bowl. 'This wasn't gonna be good.' He thought. If the press was already catching on to his wife's whereabouts more and more questions would be asked the longer she was gone.

Henry switched the television off before moving into the kitchen. He set his bowl in the sink, he'd clean it later, and walked towards their shared home office.

He sat down at his desk, planning on grading papers, but his mind drifted after glancing at his wife's cluttered space. Files, envelopes, and loose papers were scattered across her desktop. A pair of heels lay forgotten near her chair. One of her many trench coats sat in a heap on the floor; she clearly missed the coatrack and decided aganist picking the jacket up and putting it where it belonged.

God he missed her. Missed the little things. Even the things that drove him nuts. They'd only been apart a mere day, but it felt as if she'd been gone for two weeks.

The buzzing of the telephone startled Henry from his thoughts. He reached across his desk and pulled the home phone from its cradle. He sighed seeing who the caller was. He was hoping it was Elizabeth, but no. This was another number he knew by heart. "Mr. President." He said after answering. "I need her back Henry."

~MS~

The sky was blue, not a cloud in sight. The rain had subsided the day before, and the temperature was now in the low seventies. The weather was perfect.

She had woken up to chirping birds and the sun peaking through her bedroom curtains. After drinking her cup of coffee she felt the need to be outside; she wanted to feel the warm sting of the sun on her cheeks.

She'd been pulling weeds from the front garden for only about twenty minutes when the sound of tires on gravel caused her to turn around. She smiled seeing the truck and trailer coming up the driveway.

It had completely slipped her mind that the horses were coming back from winter boarding today. Back at home she had the day marked off on her calendar, but through her dramatic departure she'd forgotten.

The horses' arrival was a pleasant surprise. And boy was Mitch shocked to see Elizabeth home; he wasn't expecting either her or Henry until their planned weekend trip the following week. Elizabeth caught up with their stable-hand, making sure all the horses were in good health. He told her they were healthy and happy to get back home.

After Mitch helped Elizabeth get all the horses to the barn the man left her alone saying something about fixing one of the gates on the property. She went to Buttercup immediately and without a second thought began brushing him down. She was ecstatic to see him. She missed her horse.

~MS~

After saddling Buttercup up, Elizabeth rode down her favorite trail to her favorite view.

She had an arm wrapped over Buttercup's withers as she gently nuzzled his nose with her left hand. They stood side by side atop the hill, admiring the birds-eye view of the property. It all looked so small from up here.

Still looking out over the farm, Elizabeth withdrew her right arm from Buttercup's neck and worked on opening a small bag she had brought with her. Buttercup snorted in excitement, recognizing the bag. She laughed at his reaction. "Be patient." She commanded before pulling out an apple slice. The horse ate the fruit gently from her hand.

After all the treats were gone Elizabeth faced Buttercup and softly stroked his mane. "You always bring a smile to my face." She spoke sadly. "Sometimes I wish you could talk." Elizabeth said before leaning her head aganist the horse's. "I'm just not sure what to do." She admitted as she stroked the top of his head. Buttercup stepped backwards out of the embrace before dropping his head and nudging Elizabeth's back, pushing her forward. She could only guess what the gesture meant. But Buttercup could always read her well; he always knew when she needed a push to do something. Elizabeth took one last look out over the farm before mounting atop Buttercup. She knew where she needed to go.

~MS~

He'd been sitting in the back of one of three black SUVs for what felt like days when in reality it had been a mere two hours. He had called the farm's landline, but there was no answer. He would try her cellphone but she had left that behind in Georgetown.

They were an hour out from Charlottesville. He was anxious to see her, but was also scared to see what would greet him. Had she had enough time? God he hoped so because at The President's order she was coming home if she liked it or not.

~MS~

She felt timid about visiting here. She never thought she'd come back. She had this nagging feeling in her stomach, guilt maybe, about never stopping by. Although she hasn't stepped foot inside these gates in thirty one years, she still knew her way through the cemetery.

Elizabeth softly shut the driver'a side door, feeing like she couldn't make a sound. She took a step towards the grass, but stopped in her tracks. She wasn't strong enough for this. She wasn't prepared. She didn't need a reminder of their deaths. She shut her eyes willing these negative thoughts to wane. She inhaled deeply, held it in, and then released before continuing the short walk.

A few steps later she found herself standing in front of two matching stones. The only difference being the inscriptions. 'Benjamin Adams. Our beloved father, 1938-1983' and 'Suzanne Adams. Our beloved mother, 1941-1983.' Elizabeth ran her hand along the top of the granite; it was cool to the touch.

She sat legs criss-crossed, staring at the two tombstones. She didn't know how to go about this. She'd never done this before. She'd figured she may as well just begin talking.

"I miss you both so much." She declared, a tear falling as she spoke. Even after all these years the pain of their loss was still raw. "I wish you were both here... I need you." She admitted.

Oh god she missed them. She missed their big bright smiles they would wear everyday. Missed their warm hugs they would give right before bed. Missed their home cooked meals because both her parents were good in the kitchen. She wished she'd given them the time of day to teach her. She missed their voices that she could barely remember. They were drifting away even aganist all her might to remember. She missed their advice that she could use right now. She missed their comfort and their kisses that she needed oh so badly. And she missed their 'I love you's'. Three words. Eight letters. A phrase that she should have said before they walked out that door.

"Something bad happened... and I don't know how to get past it." She nearly chocked on the last few words, as tears streamed down her face. She ached for her dad to wrap her in his arms as he whispered 'everything's gonna be okay.' She wished her mom stood in front of her; she would ask if she'd ever experienced the loss of a child.

It was all too much. Her heart throbbed from the hurt... from all the pain. From the death of her parents. Will's emotional withdrawal. A broken heart from past boyfriends. Battling trust issues and anxiety through boarding school and college. Fearing for Henry's safety through his deployment. Witnessing suffering and mass casualties working in the CIA. The fear of not being a good mother. Her time in Iraq. 9/11. Henry's ultimatum. Leaving the company. Iran. The loss of her child... And going through it all without her parents.

Elizabeth clamped a hand over her mouth, trying to quiet the loud sobs. She had so many questions for them that would forever go unanswered. "I lost my baby... Our baby. Mine and Henry's." This was the first time she'd spoken the words out loud. It was like a small weight was lifted off her shoulders even though she was talking to no one.

"I... I had a miscarriage." When it came to religion she didn't know what to believe, especially after the car accident, but right now deep in her heart she hoped that her baby she never got to hold was currently being held in the arms of her parents.

"Tell me what to do." She begged. Elizabeth sniffled and wiped underneath her eyes. And just like that the words that her mother had muttered on numerous occasions came to her. "Let your heart be your compass Lizzie." She mumbled to herself. And she finally realized what she wanted... what she needed. She needed Henry.

~MS~

She soared down the street; her foot pressed hard aganist the gas pedal. Once stopped at a red light Elizabeth grabbed the spare secure cellphone that was always inside the Jeep in case of emergencies. She dialed his number frantically, needing to hear his voice.

"Baby?" He questioned, answering the phone. She nearly fell apart hearing the singular word. The light turned green; she pushed down on the gas again. "Are you alright?" Henry asked after she didn't respond.

"Yes. No... No I'm not, but I'm better." She explained as she maneuvered the car into the left hand turn lane. She heard an intake of breath on the other end of the line. "Oh god Henry I'm sorry. Sorry for leaving." She apologized desperately.

"Elizabeth it's okay. Just breathe babe." Henry relplied, attempting to calm her down after hearing her rushed and almost panicked tone.

"Look I'm on my way home to DC. I'm about to get on the highway." She told him.

"Well I just arrived at the farm, so why don't you turn the car around and come back here." He suggested.

She took a deep breath trying to steady her erratic beating heart. The light turned yellow so she began to turn left, removing herself from the middle of the intersection. "Okay but Henry I need to tell..."

The rest of her words were cut off. All Henry could hear was the sound of tires screeching. The noise of glass shattering, and the crunch of metal on metal. "Elizabeth!" Henry screamed into the phone, but the line was dead.

AN: hey guys I'm writing this from my phone so if there are any mistakes I apologize. I hope you liked the update and review!! But let me tell you the past few days have been crazy! My parents decided that we'd take an impromptu trip to hilton head. They told us (me and my two sisters) a few hours before we were leaving. Packing was horrendous and in the midst of getting ready to leave I forgot to pack my laptop. Hence why I'm writing this on my phone which I don't like to do. But anyways... my parents have a house on the island so we're here quit a bit (it's my favorite place to be) but we typically don't come in August because of school and sports. My high school always started earlier than most and tryouts for my fall sport started on August first so we were never able to get down here at this time. But I'm starting college this year, and my two younger sisters start school later in the month so we were able to fly down. Okay I'm rambling but I basically wanted to say that I forgot I how harsh the sun in August is here. I'm fair skinned, and sat out at the beach all day andddd let's just say that I am looking very red right now. Like this may be the worst sunburn I've ya since I was ten. And there is no way that I will be playing tennis tomorrow because I don't think I can move. I'm just thankful our house is fully stocked with aloe for when I'm stupid and go light on sunscreen. Well there's my life update; how is your summer? Oh and yeah tell my what you think of the story. :)


	9. Chapter 9

here for you

chap 9

AN: Wow I haven't updated this since summer and now I feel very guilty…As you can see I've marked this as complete :( Yes this was originally supposed to be a small multi chap and yes this is where I planned to end the story…. But seeing the amazing responses I can definitely see myself coming back to this in the future, but not for quite a bit of time. I've been working on a new story (Five More Minutes) and I plan on focusing on that before I come back to this. So enjoy this last chapter for now. I've greatly enjoyed writing this fic and I hope you all enjoyed reading it! Keep an eye out for FMM, it's (hopefully) gonna be good :)

Nothing. She heard absolutely nothing. The silence was deafening, speaking louder then any scream that would ever leave her mouth. But this wasn't right… She'd heard the sound of tires screeching, the noise of glass shattering, and the fatal crunch of metal on metal, yet the only sound she was able to hear now was the whush whush of her rapidly beating heart.

After Iran her therapist once told her that the ringing in her ears, formally known as the condition tinnitus, could be derived from her underlying sense of panic. Fight or flight, she put it simply. Doctor Sherman explained when your body responds to panic it's as if the big red alert button was pushed, and the blood in your body is rushed to the brain. Of course, she didn't put it like that; She rambled on about a bunch of doctor mumbo jumble crap that surpassed her insufficient high school anatomy terms. But even if the ringing sensation did have a scientific reason for occurring, she'd simply interpreted it as being her mind's way of blocking out the terror happening around her. Iran. The shooting a few weeks ago. And now the accident. One more pull on the fragile string that was her mindspace, and well let's just say the ringing in her ears may be indefinite.

She envisioned her life along with each and every person that once roamed the world as a domino effect. Important life events lined up one after the other. Some bad, some good, and some that you just couldn't come back from. If you're lucky enough the one falling domino will only spark the fall of a few. It's fascinating that just the right amount of space between the tiles can determine your fate, what happens and what doesn't. But all it takes is one decision, accepting one job, ending a speech a minute early, or one turn of a car to shift the balance of the rest of your life. A chain reaction. But there was always one question that left her uneasy. What happened when all the dominos fell? What happened when one tile knocked down the rest, one after the other, taking with it the good, the bad, and the things she just couldn't come back from? Or was the first falling domino the thing she wouldn't come back from? It was just a matter of time. When. The biggest anxiety of life. When would your life be ripped out from under you? When would you unknowingly kiss your husband for the very last time? When would you murmur the last 'I love you' to your kids as you dashed out to the car when late to work? When would your tiles run out?

Her eyelids fluttered and given how dark her surroundings were she could have sworn she was at home, curtains pulled shut and head buried beneath a pillow, but if she were lying in bed there would be no pain, no burning sensation radiating from the middle of her chest.

She could feel the seat belt uncomfortably straining against her middle, digging into her left shoulder. She'd have bruises no doubt, but dark colored marks were preferred over going flying through the windshield.

The ringing in her ears seemed to dissipate rather quickly because the recognition of the blaring of a car horn was passed to the fore front of her mind. And that's when her eyes fully flickered open, determined to shut off the very painful noise to her still sensitive ears.

Her body was draped over the steering wheel; head pressed against the now deflated airbag which had thankfully served its purpose.

Her eyes wandered, noticing how the entire right side of the Jeep was crumpled inwards; shards of metal sticking over to the left side of the car, seeming to race towards her fighting to be the first to take her life. She'd been t-boned. And god she ached all over. She slowly sat backwards in her seat and sighed out a breath of relief when the beeping of the car stopped after her chest was no longer pressed against the middle of the steering wheel.

The first rule if involved in a car accident is to stay at the scene of the crash, but she couldn't help feeling the need to flee. Fight or flight, right? She'd done tremendous research concerning vehicular accidents after the fatal car crash that had killed her parents. She wanted or rather needed to know the exact steps the police had taken after arriving at the scene. Will refused to give her any details so she hid away at the local library for hours on end, reading and re-reading every journal, every book, and even every magazine about motor vehicle accidents. Each one rattled off a list of things to do after the fact -check on all drivers and passengers, call the police, exchange information, talk to witnesses, inform your insurance company, keep track of your medical treatment, and take pictures- but she seemed to have forgotten one major topic to cover: emotion.

The crash took forever. It sounded crazy but it was as if everything around her slowed down, leaving time for her mind to jump to the worst possible outcomes that she could conjure up. She saw her life flash before her eyes for the second time in the last month. She wondered if this was how her parents felt when they died. If their thoughts instantly wandered to her and Will or if they thought of one another or both.

God, she needed to get out of here.

With shaky hands she tugged on the seatbelt, struggling with the buckle for a moment. Once she wrestled out of the tight grip of the restraint, she pushed the driver side door open slowly; the action causing loose pieces of glass to clatter to the floor. She stood on unsteady legs, essentially trembling. Her eyes darted to the right surveying the damage done on the car. She nearly lost her breakfast.

She'd missed it all. Missed the car that came soaring through the yellow soon to turn red light. It was her fault, at least that's what the small DMV booklet that she'd all but memorized before her driving test explained. The driver entered the intersection when the light was still yellow so, under the law, she was the driver at blame. She made the mistake. The mistake that could've killed not only herself but other drivers and passengers on the road.

Ever since the day she passed her driving test she'd been the calmest, the most patient, the most cautious driver on the road. She all too well knew the consequences of careless driving… of careless decisions. You're putting your life in the hands of hundreds of thousands of strangers. You have to trust that the driver on the other side of the road won't drift over the double yellow lines. You have to trust that other drivers aren't drunk, high, or impaired. One incompetent driver can betray your trust, can cause all the dominos to fall. And one afternoon one drunk driver did. She always thought her parents trusted too easily which was probably the reason why she wasn't quick to trust, why she held the majority of the people in her life at an arm's length, and why she sometimes even pushed the one's she did trust away. But recently it seemed like she was the one who couldn't be trusted. Not with her marriage, not with a car, and not with the safety of her children.

She squinted against the bright light. Her vision was dotted with patches of black due to the head rush of the position change. Maybe she should've remained sitting in the car until she'd been checked out. But she'd never been one to wait. She needed to follow the list of instructions that each and every magazine, journal, and book explained. She needed to check on all drivers and passengers involved; she needed to call the police; she needed to exchange information; she needed to talk to witnesses; she needed to inform her insurance company; she needed to be ready to keep track of her medical treatment; she needed to take pictures; she needed to call Henry.

Her head spun. She stumbled, luckily throwing out a hand and catching herself on the front of the car that wasn't demolished. "Ma'am? Ma'am are you alright?" A man's voice sounded from somewhere behind her. She couldn't bring herself to answer. She leaned against the hood of the car, head in her hands attempting to combat the dizziness. "Police will be here in about two minutes." He spoke softly. She could feel his stare on her, probably assessing if she was seriously hurt or not. She didn't feel the need to assure him that she was in fact okay, because for the first time she was ready to admit that she wasn't. She needed her husband.

~MS~

Guilt. Her life was full of it. Guilt for not being the Adams sibling who was in the car. Guilt for not being the one killed in Iran. Guilt for not being the one shot at the speech. Guilt for being the incompetent driver. Guilt for losing their child.

She had always been one to overthink, going through each and every possible scenario of each of the events mentioned. What if she had gone with them to get ice cream that day? What if she went instead of Will? Would they both still be dead? Would she have died? Or what if she hadn't stood near the windows at Minister Javani's residence? What if she had still been in his study? Would Fred Cole still be alive? Would she have died? Or what if she hadn't gone off the scripts during her speech? What if she had ended early? Would Jay still have been hurt? What if she had stepped in front of the podium? Would she have died? Or what if she had left the cemetery a minute earlier? What if she turned the car a moment later? Would she have died? Or what if she had stopped and called Henry instead of going straight back to The State Department? What if she had scheduled an immediate doctor's appointment for that evening? Would she still have miscarried?

She'd learned long ago that you could go through the what ifs all day every day, but it'd only lead to unnecessary pain. She knew better. She knew, but why was it that she still found herself tangled up in the past?

"Elizabeth!" Her eyes flickered upwards hearing the drawl of her name from the oh so familiar voice. Henry. He was here, rushing down the hallway with a handful of agents trailing closely behind him. And god she'd never been so happy to see someone in her life.

He pulled her up from the chair she'd been anxiously sitting in and into his arms. "I was so worried." He whispered against her hair.

All she could feel was the way his arms tightened around her middle, and the way his lips pressed soft kisses into her hair. She had so much to say, but all she could mutter at the moment was a mere, "I was so scared."

She buried her head in the crook of his neck and let out probably the loudest sob of her life. It was as if everything had caught up with her. The car crash that killed her parents. The never ending sibling struggles with Will. Boarding school and then the move to college. Opening up to Henry. Facing motherhood without a mother. 9/11. The death of Thomas Duncan. The secrets of the CIA. The Baghdad fight. The anger and endless judgement from her eldest. Iran. The shooting. The miscarriage. Today's accident. The hidden emotions and unsaid fears had built up and up and now… they were finally catching up with her. It was overwhelming.

Her arms wrapped around Henry's waist, urging him closer. Her fingers curled around his shirt, digging into his skin. She cried into his shoulder, not caring about the audience of hospital staff, agents, and patients they were sure to have around them. "Baby, it's okay." He reassured.

"It's not." She mumbled against his shoulder. She slightly pulled back from his body enabling her to gaze up into his eyes. "I could've died. I could've left you a widow. I could've left the kids motherless." She rambled as she shook her head back and forth in near hysteria. "I don't want them to know that pain. I don't want to leave you to do it all alone." She cried as she buried her face against his chest again. "I almost ended up like them." She whispered.

"Is that what this whole thing's about? Your parents?" He asked quietly.

"No." She answered almost immediately.

"What did you need to tell me Elizabeth?" He questioned softly, referring to their conversation right before their phone call had cut out.

She swallowed hard and then said, "I don't want to talk here."

~MS~

They'd managed to make it back to the farmhouse within the next hour. Thankfully Elizabeth's injuries weren't severe; a spot above her eyebrow had been stitched up and the rest of her wounds were superficial cuts along with a few already forming bruises. Physically she was fine. Mentally… well that was up for debate.

She'd barely spoken since arriving home. Home. It was crazy how fast she could revert back to calling the place where they used to live home. Of course, it's where her heart was. It's where the kids grew up. It's where Buttercup along with other horses resided. It's where her and Henry would retire and grow old.

She'd missed it. Missed the feeling of being home. It's where her roots were. It's where memories of her parents still lingered. She'd grown up on a farm, and she was happy her kids had that same opportunity. The fresh air and the open fields… There was just something about being surrounded by nature that soothed her-in the words of her husband-'waspy soul'. And maybe she should have come back here sooner; it always seemed to clear her head. Recently her job had been weighing heavy on her heart along with her mind. She was plagued with making the hard decisions that no one else would or rather could make day after day. She was the one who made the hard calls and even if she didn't want to admit it, that affected her. It left her sleepless; tossing and turning while thinking of the other possible solutions she could have suggested. The what ifs. And maybe she did get too caught up in her work… it's happened before. Actually, it happened almost all the time at the CIA. She should've called him that afternoon instead of rushing back to work. But she hadn't. She should've told him when he showed up at the hospital, or at least when they'd arrived home. But she hadn't. She never should have let it get this bad. She'd always struggled with communication, but with Henry she'd always been able to find her words. But she couldn't.

And now she sat on the top step of their front porch, knee to knee with her husband. She was too nervous to speak just yet, too terrified to hear his response. So they sat in silence. She knew he was watching her; she could feel his stare on the right side of her face. She chose to ignore the attention, needing to compose her thoughts before she spoke. She simply stared straight ahead, gazing out over the bright green fields. If she looked hard enough, she could pick out the beginning of the spring flowers starting to bloom.

"I was visiting my parents right before I called you." She said, still looking straight out into the yard. Out of the corner of her eye she could see Henry slightly nod. He wouldn't speak, she knew that. He'd give her a chance to continue; stay silent to test the waters of how much she wanted to talk. "I haven't been back to their graves since their funeral."

"You've never told me that before." He commented.

"It didn't seem important." She muttered. "It's just something about their names etched in stone. You know, the horrible finality of it all." She admitted.

"You've been through a lot these past few months babe, and we're all afraid of… of dying."

She held her tongue, contemplating if she should correct him. If she should tell me, it wasn't death that she was scared of. "I'm not afraid of dying Henry. I'm afraid of losing the people that I love, and I…" She trailed off. What was she planning on saying? And I've lost people that I love? And I lost our baby?

A breeze swept across the porch. The cool air sent a chill throughout her body causing the hairs on her arms to perk up into tiny little goosebumps. "I lied to you Henry." She admitted.

Elizabeth scooted slightly to the left, so she was able to turn and look him in the eyes. His face read confusion, needing a further explanation. Looking down at her lap, she explained, "When I was in the hospital after the shooting and you asked me if I was okay, I lied." After a moment, her gaze lifted from the ground and she stared into his usually comforting brown orbs. "I had a miscarriage Henry." She said, teary eyed and anxiously.

After the words left her mouth, she turned her gaze away from her husband, not being able to bear seeing the pain and the anger that she expected to form in his eyes. Tears trekked down her cheeks as her panic fully took over and her heart began to race. She fully expected her husband to stand up and leave after what she'd just told him, so when he gently gripped her right hand with his she nearly gasped in shock. "You were pregnant?" He asked softly.

Her lip trembled as she glanced to the right. She nodded. "I was gonna tell you after the speech but I…" She stuttered out. A sob seethed up through her throat before she was able to finish the sentence.

Her chest was on fire. Her throat felt as if it would fully close up at any moment. Her shoulders shook in fear. And her heart thumped wildly against her chest. Well at least it did until her husband slid closer to her, wrapped an arm around her middle, and directed her small frame into the warm embrace of his arms.

She cried into his shoulder for the second time that day. Jeez when did she become such a crier? She gripped onto his arms; her fingernails bit into the bare skin of his biceps.

After a minute or so she pulled back. She sniffled and apprehensively asked, "You're not mad?"

The look he gave her told her that she must look so pathetic, so small. He had tears rolling down his own face as his right hand came up to her face and his thumb stroked a soothing pattern on her cheek. "No baby."

"But I…" She trailed off and looked at the ground. She wanted to tell him that this was her fault. That she lost their child. That something she did caused this. It was her body and she wasn't taking care of herself properly. Maybe it was her long work hours. Or her not so great day to day diet. Or maybe her uncontrollable addiction to caffeine.

But he'd have none of that. Henry gently placed two of his fingers under her chin, lifting her gaze to his. "You can be as stubborn as you want in what you believe, but this was not your fault Elizabeth."

She sighed. His words calmed her unsettled mind and rapidly beating heart. She let go. Let go of the built-up pain. The secret. The shame. "I thought you would blame me. I… I should've told you."

"Yes, I think you should have told me sweetheart, but Elizabeth Adams McCord I would never blame you and I could never be mad at you for this." He told her before he leaned forward and kissed her forehead.

"It was awful Henry." She admitted as she let a few more tears fall from the corners of her eyes.

"I am so sorry that you had to go through that alone." He told her. He paused for a moment before saying, "You can always talk to me. I love you so much, and no matter what I'll always be here for you." He reassured.

Henry wrapped a comforting arm around her frame. She leaned into his embrace, letting her head rest against his left shoulder.

They let the silence overtake them. The only noise was the sound of the bulrush swaying with the breeze, and the very distant crunching from shoes on gravel, presumably from the diplomatic security agents or Mitch who was still tending to the horses.

"I saw the news about the trade deal. Conrad sent you to come get me, didn't he?" She questioned after realizing that her husband had already been in Charlottesville before she had called.

"Yes, but Liz you don't have to go back just yet if you're not ready or… or not at all if that's what you want." He assured her. He was giving her the option to hide away. It was sweet, but that's not how Washington worked.

"I think I'd be fired if I didn't help clean up this mess with China. I mean the trade deal was my idea in the first place."

"Oh, I beg to differ. I'd have words with Conrad if that were the case."

She let out a laugh before her tone turned serious. "I want to go back… tomorrow. But after the treaty is signed, I'm taking a leave of absence and I want us to spend a few weeks out here."

"I think that's a great idea."

There was another brief moment of silence before she spoke again. "I'm sorry for leaving."

"Everyone mourns in their own way. Running away for a few days is kinda your thing." He teased.

She huffed and placed a hand to her chest, acting as if she was offended by the joke. "Says the guy who broke up with me for three days before proposing." She fought back.

"Okay… It's our thing." He corrected before laughing.

She joined him in his laughter before her lips fell into a straight line. "Henry we almost had a fourth child." She stated sadly.

"Not almost. We do." He told her. "Listen, I've spent half of my life studying religion and I still don't have the first idea what happens when we pass. But what I believe in my bones is that there has to be somewhere. A place where part of us goes. A place where we'll be able to see him or her again." He said.

She nodded. Although she didn't particularly believe in god, especially after what happened to her parents, she believed in her husband. She nodded. "I trust you." She told him. And she knew that he knew that in that moment those three words meant even more than an 'I love you.' Her trust was hard to earn, and she felt the need to remind him that she trusted him with her heart.

Henry gripped his arm tighter against her side giving her a loving squeeze. "We'll get through this right?" She asked.

"As long as we're together." He reassured her. He placed a kiss into her blonde locks after she had nuzzled her head into the crook of his neck. They both stared out over the fields, enjoying the comfort that the presence of one another brought them. They sat knee to knee on the top step of the front porch, his arms wrapped around her as they both breathed in the air and bathed in the silence that the farmhouse provided.

AN: Well that was nothing like what I had planned for the last chapter. But I hope you enjoyed reading. An old half written one shot is currently being worked on so that should be up soon and of course I'm continuously working on 'Five More Minutes'. I've decided I need to have at least six or seven chapters completely finished before I post so I have something to post while in school. So whenever I hit the six/seven mark on that story you'll be getting the prologue along with the first chapter. I hope you read. It'll be one hell of a ride. ;)


End file.
